Yami
by XO'MagickMoon'OX
Summary: This is the sequel to Hikari. First chapter from Bakura's POV. He sees Malik and Ryou confess their feelings for each other. If anything, he knows he should be outraged ... not heartbroken. [MalikxRyou][onesided BakuraxRyou]
1. What Bakura Witnesses

**Yami …**

_XO'MagickMoon'OX _

**A/N:** Ok, well, as of so far, "Hikari" isn't too popular. But I just had this sequel in mind, and it begged to be written! Please don't hate me for it!

* * *

_In this world, there are two realms that coexist, only divided by a thin veil: Earth and the Shadow Realm. The inhabitants of the Shadow Realm are duel monsters, mostly, and human prisoners. The inhabitants of Earth are, well, you know … humans and animals. Though these realms overlap each other, the veil in between them keeps them apart. The veil can only be lifted by certain means … certain, dark means. _

_Then there are the Millennium Items. These are links between the Shadow Realm and Earth. Only those who possess knowledge of Shadow Magick or a Millennium Item can sever the veil and control the monsters in the Shadow Realm. _

_The Millennium Items also house spirits of the past, spirits whose business in this world is not yet finished. Therefore, they are kept grounded to this world by the Items. They exist in the Shadow Realm, and can only exist on Earth by inhabiting a host who is in possession of the Millennium Item the spirit is housed in. Of course, the spirits can faze through the veil and exist on Earth, but only as spirits, phantoms of the men they used to be. If they want a body, they need to possess one through means of their Item._

_I am one such spirit. Ancient Egyptian Thief King Bakura. That is me. My host is Ryou Bakura, holder of the Millennium Ring. He's a weak, fragile boy, easily overtaken. I own him, and he knows it. I hold power over him because I think with my animal instinct rather than humane moral. I live by only one law: survive. Growing up and living in the ancient times does that to a person, I guess. And turning to the life of a thief only encourages it; it hands over complete and total control of my mind to animal instinct, labeling morality as weakness. Those who are weak don't survive. Those who have power do. That is why I need all of the Millennium Items. To possess all of them is to have power, and to have power means to survive. And that is my truth. _

_I don't mind using my host to get what I want. I won't use him to the point of killing him, because then I have no host. Besides, I've grown quite attached to the boy. I'd never want to permanently hurt him … then what fun would he be to push around? Abusive, you may call me, cruel and cold-hearted, but it's just the way I am. I am a spirit with a cold past. I need to vent my feelings, otherwise I might – Ra-forbid – take them out on myself._

_

* * *

_

I stand against a glass case displaying the mummy of a pharaoh. I want to shatter the unbreakable glass around the mummy and set the corpse aflame. Whichever pharaoh the gruesome mummy used to be doesn't matter. Just the word "pharaoh" makes me cringe.

I stand there, though no one can see me, no one save Ryou. But he can only see me when I want him to. For now, I prefer to remain invisible, a shadow of the man I used to be. A spirit, here waiting for his weakling of a yadonushi to hurry up so we can leave. I hate this Egyptian exhibit. It's practically a shrine dedicated to the ancient pharaohs. These idiots have no idea what ancient Egypt was really like. This exhibit gives it too much credit, making it sound like a great, exciting, regal time, full of magick and mystery, romance and tragedy, like a Hollywood film.

_But I know that I can never get rid of it. It's too late for that. It's a part of me, and no matter how I run or where I go, it will always find me. _Those are Ryou's thoughts. You see, him being my host and all, we share a helpful little mind-link, in which we can hear each other's thoughts. Though that sometimes works against me, usually it puts me at an advantage.

_He will always find me. _

_Bakura, the ancient Egyptian, self-proclaimed "Thief King". The inhabitant of my ring. My yami. _

_I hate him. _

Ouch. That stung. Heh, I can't really blame him though.

"Life is so unfair, isn't it?" Malik. Apparently my yadonushi wasn't aware of the young tomb keeper standing no more than a few feet away from him.

"Malik. I … I didn't know you were here," Ryou mutters. I called that one.

Malik begins talking again, but I only catch a few words here and there. My mind is focused on Ryou's thoughts. He feels a stab of pity for Malik, and a little bit of sympathy. Pathetic fool. How can he feel sorry for a guy who used his body as he did in Battle City? Albeit, I was the one who volunteered him, and then proceeded to impale his arm with a knife and throw him into situations he was unfit to handle in his dangerously weak state. But still …

Then, Malik gasps, screwing his eyes shut. I smirk as I feel the dark energy pulsing through the air. His body tenses, seemingly drawn by an unseen force. He falls forward onto his knees and reaches out to grasp the metal railing surrounding the exhibit.

His breath his strained, and he's trembling. Ryou's worried and frightened as he takes a step towards Malik. He's frightened? Ah, he hasn't forgotten Battle City.

Ryou says softly, "M-Malik …?"

The boy's trembling quells. Slowly, as if each movement causes him pain, he stands up and leans back against the railing, smiling reassuringly.

"I mustn't think such things. It's those thoughts that created my yami, after all. Even though he's gone, I can still … feel the darkness in my mind, threatening to take over again," the tomb keeper explains dryly.

"I can sympathize," Ryou says wryly. I frown. What's he getting at?

Malik looks away. "I'm sure."

Ryou looks the boy up and down. No doubt Malik is attractive, but why is Ryou studying him so closely? Why is his heart beginning to race? Yes, I can feel it, as if it is my own heart racing (not that spirits, literally speaking, have hearts).

_But it isn't just his appearance that attracts me to him, but the fact that he understands me … and he's probably the only one in this pathetic world that does. _

Attracted to the young Egyptian, are we, my Ryou? Don't forget that I own you. You are my Ryou. I'm not going to share you with anyone else.

I can't bare to share you with anyone else.

"We didn't fair as well when it came to our yamis, did we? Yugi has the Pharaoh," Ryou chuckles sardonically, "and I get an underhanded tomb robber."

'Underhanded'? I like to think, clever … witty … roguish … charming, even. Does my yadonushi really think of me that way? As _underhanded_?

Malik smiles sadly. "Yes. It's unfair …" Then he frowns. "But at least it's not your fault that your yami is the way he is –"

Which is what?

"–Mine was derived from anger and pain … _my _anger and pain. It's really my own fault that he was ever created."

Ryou takes a few steps towards Malik, covering the distance between them, and leaning back on the railing as well. Malik's attention is on the floor, but his mind is wandering.

And so is my yadonushi's, as are his eyes. Wandering all over that tomb keeper, from his pale mane of blonde silk to his wonderfully tanned skin right down to his feet. So he likes this young Egyptian, does he? He likes him in a way that I'm, quite frankly, not comfortable with. Besides, you worthless twit, Malik doesn't like you back, at least, not in the way that you like him. So get over it. I'm the only one who can have you.

Maybe if I take control I'll remind him of who is the master and who is the pet.

I faze back into the Shadow Realm before slipping into the Millennium Ring. Then I make my way into Ryou's mind.

"Agh!"

He begins to buckle under the pre-possession symptoms, his mind flaring with fever, his body numbing with cold, his vision blurring, his world spinning, ears ringing. Delightful.

But, as soon as I begin to feel his body succumb to my control, Ryou collapses …

Right into Malik's arms.

The incident surprises me so much … the warm touch … the strong arms wrapped around Ryou's body … that I run from my yadonushi's mind, fleeing into the Ring, and back into the Shadow Realm, only to slip through the veil and watch the inevitable unfold before my invisible eyes.

Moments pass and Ryou lies there, unconscious. Weakling. I watch in horror as the tomb keeper tightens his grip ever so slightly around Ryou … _my _Ryou … holding him against him.

As my yadonushi slowly comes back to consciousness, his mind begins to race. I cringe at the onslaught of emotions that rages through his heart in that brief moment. I feel each one as clearly as if they were my own emotions. Surprise … confusion … happiness … excitement … gratitude … relief … and a strange sense of … fulfilled longing.

Ryou closes his eyes again. He's enjoying that? Being held like that by Malik? The impudent brat … I ought to …

Malik, still holding Ryou, sits down against the wall. Ra-dammit, Ryou's practically sitting in his lap! He _is _sitting in his lap! And neither seem to mind …

_I feel so safe and protected, comforted in his arms. It's strange that, after all we've been through together … at Battle City and all … that I feel this way towards him._

I blink. He really _does _have feelings for Malik, doesn't he? Feelings that are stronger than I realized.

The young blonde inclines his head towards the other's ear, only to whisper, "Ryou, are you all right?"

Ryou nods. "Thank you … for catching me."

"Any time."

I shudder in disgust at his suggestive tone of voice, the subtle meaning behind his words. Ryou's clinging to the boy's chest, resting his head beneath Malik's chin.

_I can just feel the words balancing on the tip of my tongue, the words I want to say. But, I'm afraid that I may be confused. I might not really feel the way I think I do about Malik. After all, we're barely friends. But, I feel like we have a strange connection, like he knows everything I've been through, and I, in turn, know everything he's been through. We share the same curse, and when you're alone in a dark, cruel world, understanding is the only light you can hope to find, the only warmth when you're stranded out in the cold._

_Malik understands me. Malik is hope, warmth, light … he's everything to me. _

When did my yadonushi become such a poet?

Wait … WHAT WORDS? What words does he want to say to Malik? What? It can't be …

"I love you."

My eyes widen, my breath catches in my throat. No … way …

My lips part, as if to say something, but the word only comes out as a whisper … rather, a whimper – a pathetic, heartbroken whimper. "Ryou …"

HEARTBROKEN? Since when do I have a heart? And why would Ryou saying 'I love you' to someone break it?

I must be delirious. It's being here, in this exhibit. It's messing with my head.

Malik hasn't said anything yet, much to my relief.

Then, Ryou murmurs, "M-Malik?"

I can feel Ryou's heart sinking. I hear his crestfallen thoughts, _Why doesn't he say something? Why doesn't he react? He doesn't love me back. How could I think that he would? How could I think that, just because we share a special bond, he feels the same way about me that I feel about him?_

That's right, how could you think that? How could you think that anyone besides me could have you …

Ryou's eyes begin to sting with tears. _I won't cry in front of him. Just because the one person in which I find true solace, the one person that I feel I can trust with my life, the one person that makes my heart pound and my stomach flutter doesn't love me back isn't cause to cry. _

I can't help but smirk. My yadonushi really is pathetic …

But then, to my complete and utter horror, Malik reaches out and runs a hand through Ryou's hair … his beautiful, snow-white mane of silky tresses, like strands of spun moonlight …

Now, when exactly did _I _become such a poet? And, why would I be thinking such things about _Ryou_? I hate his hair … I hate him.

Malik combs his fingers through Ryou's hair, trailing down to the side of his face, until he reaches his chin, which the blonde raises. Then he leans in and …

KISSES RYOU?

No, this cannot be happening. Not happening …. NOT happening …

But it is.

Ryou reaches up and wraps his arms around Malik's neck, pulling him closer. Malik wraps his arms around Ryou, hungrily deepening the kiss. Ew … please don't let tongues be involved …

Yup. The tongues are now officially involved.

I want to throw up.

At the same time though, I want to cry. It's like having my non-existent heart ripped out of my non-existent chest, thrown to the floor and then run over by a herd of diseased camels. Why? Why do I feel this way? Why is this happening to me?

I shouldn't feel this way. I shouldn't be feeling emotions I can't name.

Finally, the two pull away from each other. But then, Malik leans down to brush his lips against Ryou's neck, and whisper, "I love you, too."

And just like that, I lost my Ryou.

* * *

**A/N: **This is **TBC**, unless I receive a large amount of outraged protests, convincing me that this story sucks, that the pairing's awful, and that it should've never been written in the first place (which I'm sure everyone's already thinking after reading "Hikari"). Please, please, please review! I must know if "Hikari" & "Yami" are really as bad as I think they are! 


	2. Oh How The Mighty Have Fallen

**Oh, How The Mighty Have Fallen …**

XO'MagickMoon'OX

**A/N: **

T-T … so little reviews for "Hikari" & "Yami" … maybe this one will help. Anyway, sorry for switching the _P.O.V_ and _tense_ … from first-person to third-person, and then from present tense to past tense, but I'm very comfortable with this setting. Anyway …

Sooooo … enjoy! And please, please, please R&R! I accept compliments, critiques, and flames! Anything, just so long as it will either encourage me or help me improve!

* * *

Piercing, brown eyes glared at their reflection in the mirror. Bakura snarled, palms pressed flat on the sturdy mahogany as he watched himself in the framed sheet of half-length glass that hung above the dresser. Elbows locked, his body was trembling. Well, not _his _body, exactly …

He glanced over to the corner of the room where Ryou's spirit sat, curled into a frightened ball, whimpering pathetically. He hated the boy …

He used to hate him for his pitiful frailty, his disturbingly feminine appearance, his pathetic wallowing … but now he hated him for another reason entirely.

Ryou was _confusing_ him. Ryou was making him _feel_, and to feel was to be weak. To have an emotional attachment to another living being was weakness. Weakness was not allowed.

The strong lived, and the weak died.

So, if he knew this, if he understood this truth with frightening clarity, why was he … feeling something for his yadonushi? He didn't know what it was exactly, but he knew it was something, something that was making him soft, making him _weak_.

"RRRRGH!" Bakura launched a clenched fist into the mirror, a thousand stinging pin-pricks shooting through his knuckles. The glass shattered, the grating whisper reverberating through the room. The glittering shards, some stained with scarlet, flew askew across the dresser top, some falling to the carpeted floor.

Ryou cried out in surprise. Bakura looked over to the boy's hazy form, locking eyes with the frightened spirit. There were tears in Ryou's warm, chocolate eyes.

"Please," he whimpered, "don't let my hand bleed like that."

Bakura glanced down at his fist, unclenching it and turning it over to examine the knuckles. Bloody gashes ran across the porcelain surface, marring the smooth skin with painful lacerations. Luckily for Ryou, there were no shards or silvery splinters in the cuts. Though Ryou couldn't feel it now, he was sure to feel the stinging when he returned to his body.

Bakura grinned evilly. "Don't let it bleed?" he repeated the plea in his harsh, maliciously sweet tone. He brought the back of his hand up to his lips and ran his tongue below the wounds, licking off the blood running down to his wrist. The delicious metallic taste filled his mouth, his lower lip coated in scarlet.

Ryou shuddered at the sight, hiding his face in his hands.

"Heh … baby," Bakura sneered, his lip curling into a smirk.

Ryou whimpered, "Why … …" The rest of his words were muffled by his palms.

Bakura frowned angrily. "What was that?"

Ryou looked up, tears falling down his phantom face. "Why do you … love to torture me?"

_Love_. Bakura blanched. Why did that word bother him so much? He stomped towards his yadonushi, who cowered in his shadow. Bakura stooped and grabbed Ryou by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to his feet and pinning him to the wall.

The closer the spirit and the Ring are together, the more tightly compact the spirit's molecules become. When the wearer of the Ring and the spirit are touching, the spirit becomes solid, almost as if it were an actual body.

At the moment, Ryou's spirit was solid, giving Bakura the ability to do as he wished to the helpless boy. Ryou couldn't faze through the veil to the Shadow Realm, either, while his molecules were so compact.

"B-Bakura …" he whimpered.

The tomb robber looked Ryou up and down, from his head to his toes, taking in every inch of the boy. His hair … why did Bakura have the sudden urge to run his fingers through it? And his clothes … why was it bothering him that Ryou was wearing them? With one hand holding the boy to the wall, the other reached up and ran a slender finger over his cheek. Ryou bristled under the cold touch.

Ryou's skin … even his spirit's porcelain skin was soft and smooth. Was his spirit's hair just as fine as his actual hair? Bakura's fingers trailed up to Ryou's crown, falling through his silken locks with ease. Yup, his hair was just as beautiful and magnificent as his actual hair. Bakura then took the same hand and ran it through his own hair – which was actually Ryou's hair – and found it to be slightly courser and limper. It always was when he had control of Ryou's body. His skin was always colder, too, his hands more callused – the hands of an ancient Egyptian thief. He looked down at the palm of his free hand contemplatively, his eyes distant, as if he weren't really seeing it, but rather, looking through it. He absentmindedly flexed his fingers, and then turned the hand over to see the scarlet gashes. Why did he do that? Why did he mar such a smooth surface, ruin such perfect, milky skin?

As he looked back at Ryou, he remembered why.

Just looking into those warm, chocolate eyes made something move in his chest, something heat in his gut. Emotion… feeling… _weakness_. He felt his eyes sting with … tears? How long had it been since he'd last cried? He suppressed the tears, and, with a … trembling? … hand, he slapped his yadonushi across the face … the face he'd just caressed.

Ryou gasped in pain, squirming free from his yami's grip. Without thinking, Bakura released the shirt collar he was holding captive, and immediately Ryou's form became slightly more hazy as he fell to the ground, holding his searing cheek. What was wrong with his yami? Why was he acting so strange? Breaking his mirror and wounding his hand … pinning him to the wall and then petting him … and then slapping him? And now he was turning away again.

Ryou knew that Bakura was angry at him. Angry at him for the stupidest thing … for loving Malik. For being loved in return. For being cared about by another person. For receiving attention from another other than Bakura.

He distinctly remembered Bakura shouting in his head as Ryou had walked home, "You are _mine_, and I'm not sharing you … _especially _not an Egyptian pretty-boy like Malik! Don't forget who has the power, don't forget who's holding that leather leash around your neck … _me_."

Though there wasn't really a leather leash around Ryou's neck, he sometimes felt like there was. And Bakura knew that, and he took advantage of his yadonushi's weakness and vulnerability and insecurity whenever he could, like poking at an open wound.

Before Ryou could delve further into his musings, he felt an icy hand reach through his mind, wrap around his spirit and pull him into the Ring before forcing him into his body. Instantly, his cheek began to sting, and pain seared through his hand. His breathing was ragged from that swift and unexpected switch. The Ring felt heavy around his neck, and he knew Bakura was in there once again.

Bakura was thinking. Slowly, as he sat in his mind-chamber in the Ring, he began to realize what was going on with his – he shuddered – _emotions_. He was … in _love _with Ryou. He had been in love with Ryou for a long time, but hadn't realized it until now. He had taken Ryou for granted, never once thinking that he'd lose him, never once thinking that his pathetic yadonushi could win the heart of another. So he took advantage of him, of his weakness and insecurity, bullying him and using him to gain power. The love was there all along, just concealed by confidence and malice. But now he recognized it for what it was, the emotion he couldn't describe.

In short, his situation could be summed up by an age-old saying:

You never know what you have until it's gone.

* * *

If no one flames me for this terrible fic, then it is** TBC** ... Please REVIEW! 


	3. Found Out

**Found Out …**

_XO'MagickMoon'OX_

_

* * *

_

_Ding Dong, Ding Dong_ the bell sounded. Students filed out of the school. Malik leaned against a tree growing in a secluded section at the side of the building. He was waiting for Ryou to meet him, as they had planned.

The leafy branches of the tree dappled the golden sunlight as it played across his form under the tree. The wind was chilly, bitterly nipping at his handsome face. Domino's foliage was painted, at the moment, with the yellows and oranges and reds attributed to autumn. Early November, to be exact. Malik pulled the collar of his uncharacteristic black trench coat up around his neck, holding it closed against the wind with his hand. Underneath was his usual hooded, purple vest, black pants, and golden adornments. He just didn't feel like himself without them.

The few students that passed this secluded area eyed the blonde-haired stranger suspiciously. Surely his foreign appearance and black eye make-up was a bit out-of-the-ordinary, but did they have to _stare_? Though, with a simple sneer or glare, the inquisitive schoolgirls and -boys would take to their heels. Malik huffed and brushed a stray lock of hair behind his shoulder. His silvery breath snaked through the air before disappearing.

Where was Ry –

"Malik!"

Ah, there he was.

"Ryou, hey!" Malik called, his voice warm with welcome.

The white-haired boy turned to see the other standing beneath a nearby oak tree. Surrounding trees and bushes hid his position well. He smiled, hurrying over to Malik.

As hear neared, Malik reached out and wrapped an arm around Ryou, pulling him close. Malik was a bit taller than Ryou and had to look down to meet the other boy's eyes.

"I don't know how you stand it here," he said. "It's so cold."

Ryou laughed. "I guess you don't get autumn weather like this in Egypt."

Malik shook his head. Then he realized that Ryou was wearing nothing but his school uniform. He frowned. "Ryou, where's your jacket?"

The other averted his gaze. "Oh, I … uh … forgot it at home."

Malik narrowed his violet eyes suspiciously. "How'd you manage to do that?"

"I'm just forgetful sometimes." Ryou looked back up at the blonde-haired boy and beamed, though it was half-hearted. The truth was, yes, he _did _forget it at home, but it was because Bakura had kept him awake all night, just being a jerk, and Ryou had overslept. That morning, he'd rushed out the door so as not to be late and had forgotten his jacket in the kitchen.

His father was away on business and not there to remind him about those sorts of things. It was just him and Bakura. _Lucky me, _Ryou thought bitterly.

_Oh, I'm not _that _bad, am I? _Bakura sneered through their mind-link.

_Go away, _Ryou whimpered.

_Why? Do you and your little boyfriend want some time alone?_

_As a matter a fact …_

Silence. Bakura had closed the mind-link for the time being. Why? Surely not just because Ryou had asked him.

"Ryou?"

The white-haired boy jumped at his name. "Hmm?"

"Here." Malik slipped one of his arms out of his coat and wrapped it around Ryou. The smaller boy smiled gratefully.

"Thanks." He nestled his head in the crook of Malik's neck, breathing in his tangy herbal scent. He felt warmer already.

"Hey, Ryou …"

"Yeah?" Ryou looked up, and Malik captured the smaller boy's lips with his own, pulling the white-haired boy into a chaste kiss.

Ryou reached up and wrapped his arms around Malik's neck, threading his fingers through his pale-blonde hair. Ryou's heart quickened, his breathing short and blunted. The kiss became more passionate as he backed Malik into the tree trunk and pushed his tongue against the other's lips, trying to pry them apart.

Malik teased him, not giving Ryou the liberty for another moment. Ryou was being too dominant; Malik needed _some _control. Finally, he parted his lips and allowed the smaller boy to explore the corners of his mouth. A small moan sounded in the back of Malik's throat as his stomach began to do summersaults. Love would do that to you ...

Malik pulled away, only to lean down again and caress Ryou's neck with his lips, eliciting a soft moan from the white-haired boy.

_Yadonushi –_

Ryou groaned inwardly as Malik moved to kiss his temple. _Can't you just leave? _he snapped.

_Hey! I _was _going to tell you that you have some spectators, but since you decided to go and use that tone with me –_

_Spectators … WHAT?_

Ryou pulled back, leaving the warmth of Malik's embrace and his jacket, to find Yuugi, Anzu, Jounouchi, and Honda watching the couple incredulously. If Jounouchi's jaw hung open any lower, his chin would be brushing the brittle grass. Yuugi and Anzu just blushed once they saw that they had been caught staring, and Honda was simply … well, still staring.

_Told ya. _

_Shut-up._

_Who do you think you are that you can take that tone with –_

_I said, "Shut-up"!_

_Oh, we are _so_ having a talk later. _

Silence. Finally. Ryou didn't even have time to spare any fear for what would happen with his yami later because, at the moment, every nerve he had was focused on panic.

"H-Hi guys!" Ryou smiled feebly, his pale face paler than usual.

"Ryou!" Yuugi chirped, obviously forcing the casual tone in his voice. "And Malik. It's … It's nice to see you again."

Malik gave a curt nod, his gaze watching the gang warily, arms folded. The interruption annoyed him.

"'NICE'?" Jou exploded in his customary fashion. "Yuug, have you completely lost it! This is _Malik_ … remember? From Battle City? Ring any bells?"

"Put a sock in it, Jou," Anzu, the ever level-headed one, chastised. "It's not like he's got a gun to Ryou's head or anything."

Honda snickered. "Quite the opposite."

Anzu glared at the other dimwit, hands on her hips. "You too, Honda. Shut it."

"Well, it was good seeing you again, Malik! Later Ryou!" Yuugi said, apparently trying to move everyone away from the awkward scene.

"Yuug … but …" Jounouchi, it seemed, wasn't finished yet. "They were … _They were _…"

"Idiot, we know perfectly well what they were doing," Anzu growled. Ryou blushed, and Malik just rolled his eyes. "Now let's go!"

Anzu dragged Jou and the still-staring Honda away from the area, much to Ryou's relief. Moments later, Malik and Ryou were alone again. Ryou turned back to the blonde, shivering from cold and fear. Now that the whole embarrassing situation had passed, he remembered his yami's anger. Looking down at his bandaged hand, he wondered what would happen once he was alone at home with his darker half. In Malik's presence, he felt more confident and had angered Bakura with his sharp tone.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _he chastised himself, slapping his forehead with his uninjured hand. Then, he felt Malik's strong arm snake around his back again, pulling him closer. Soon, Malik had rewrapped his jacket around the smaller boy. But this time, Ryou didn't smile.

That was when Malik noticed Ryou's hand. "What happened?" he asked, his voice tinted with concern. He took Ryou's arm and held it up to his face to further observe the hidden injury.

"Oh, I … was cutting vegetables … and the knife slipped," Ryou lied none-too-smoothly.

Malik then saw the small bruise on Ryou's cheek from where Bakura had slapped him. Though his_ spirit _had been slapped, the bruise had shown up on his cheek when he had returned to his body. "And … let me guess … you ran into the wall when you went to fetch the bandages?"

"Um … yes?"

Malik sighed wearily. "Ryou, if Bakura did this to you, you can tell me. I know what it's like to have an abusive yami. Mine tried to destroy me, remember?" He smiled dryly.

"Right." Ryou remembered. He also remembered what had drawn him to Malik in the first place: Malik understood him … probably better than anyone. "Uh … yeah … it was Bakura. Last night … he was angry with me … and he punched my mirror. And then he … slapped me."

When Ryou's chocolate eyes met Malik's, he saw nothing but compassion, concern, and empathy. He knew that already the blonde's mind was trying to figure out what he should do to help, but Ryou didn't want him to get hurt. So, to break the boy's train of thought, he reached up and kissed him.

All thoughts of revenge on Ryou's yami were temporarily swept from the Egyptian's mind as he felt the white-haired boy's warm lips against his own. He held Ryou closer, as if to protect him from some unseen force. But he knew that he couldn't protect Ryou from Bakura … not yet. He'd figure out what to do soon, but as of right now, all he could do was offer the boy comfort and love. And that was enough.

---

Bakura stood against the cold brick wall of the school, watching the happy couple in disgust. Currently, he was invisible to Ryou. Later, he'd possess the boy and teach him not to talk back to his master.

A smirk curled on his lips.

But then, he felt a twinge in his chest, right where his heart should be if spirits had hearts. He couldn't hurt Ryou. He couldn't.

But he hated Ryou. He hated everything about him. He hated his impudence, which he had to pay for.

But he loved him. He couldn't hurt him.

But he wanted to.

_Rrrrgh! Damn him … DAMN him! _Bakura screamed in his head. _What's wrong with me? I hate Ryou … I hate him because …_

_I love him. _

And therein lay Bakura's problem.

* * *

Okay, this is still **TBC** ... PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews are the fuel that keep my creative fire burning! 


End file.
